The Shadowman
by Wordmangler
Summary: Anyone would be a little freaked out if their loved one suddenly turned into a giant. What if Derek wasn't quite such a jerk, and regretted his harsh words on the roof of WDHL? In this alternative take on the ending, he does his best to win her back. Written from Derek's POV. Comments & critiques are welcome of course...


Hi. The name's Derek Dietl. But my friends call me the Shadowman. Sounds pretty cool, right? Sort of like a superhero. Only I'm no hero. I'm an evening news anchor for a major Las Vegas station. Live in a big house on the outskirts of Vegas with my lovely wife, and yeah, life is pretty sweet. It nearly wasn't though. Let me tell you what happened.

* * *

Back in high school, I was a bit of a jock. On the football team, popular with everyone, never had any problems getting dates. Dad always said it was because I treated 'em right, by which he meant wrong. "A man's gotta take charge, son," he'd say, polishing his smooth-bore. "Women like a man who knows his own mind. Ain't that right honey?"

"Whatever you say, sweetie," Mom would call back. Now, before you get any ideas, my parents loved each other. No doubt about that. They were just a little old-school, if you know what I mean. Hell, time was, I wouldn't have known what I meant. Anyway, I sorta muddled through high school, and then did a course in journalism at university. Didn't take long before I got a job at the local television studio, and made anchor in a few years.

And then I met the girl of my dreams. Okay, yeah, so it was the tits that caught my eye. She was rocking a fantastic rack. But I'm not that shallow, not really. I mean, if it was just the tits, I'd have gone out with her a couple of times, sure, but nothing serious would have happened. But this girl was more than a pair of great boobs. She was really—well, sweet is the best way to put it. Her parents were Irish Catholics, and it took me a while to even get to first base, but—oh, okay, enough about that. She was a bit insecure, but I liked that. Not because I'm secretly insecure myself, or anything. I just loved the way that she saw me as her white knight, her Prince Charming. I'd buy her flowers, chocolates, little gifts, and her big blue eyes would light up like Christmas. I wanted to protect her, you see. Cosset her. And she worshipped me.

And then finally she popped the question. Okay, yeah, I should have done that, but it's the 21st century, and all that. But mainly I was waiting until my career took off. Dad was always on at me for still being an anchor in a podunk little town like Modesto. Not that his career had been that amazing, you know, but he wanted more from his only son. And I really wanted him to respect me. I worked really hard at my job. And then finally got a call back from Fresno, of all places. Almost a top fifty market! Come on, how could I turn that down?

The only problem was, the interview was scheduled for the day after my wedding. Now, you don't just ring up the head of HR at Fresno Regional Television and reschedule just because you're off to Europe. I had to postpone—well, cancel—our honeymoon. She was really upbeat about it when I broke the news to her, too. Well, okay, she was a little disappointed. That was obvious. But she's not an idiot—she could see that postponing a trip we could take, like, any time in favour of a major career boost was the sensible choice. She'd always been so supportive of my career. These days it can be pretty hard for a couple to live on one income, but I didn't want Susan to ever think she had to work. She was going to be my little china doll. I would protect her and look out for her.

And then it happened. Hell, the whole world knows what happened then. I remember seeing her glowing in church. Like, literally glowing. It scared the pants off me, just about, when she suddenly started growing. Then the next thing I know, I'm pinned under a beam as she busts through the roof of the church, stark naked too I might add. Then I'm flying through the air as she grabs me, and tries to escape the government men in black. Luckily those guys were on the ball with their net, or I'd be a pancake by now.

They shot her full of tranquilizers, and loaded her onto this immense bus. And just like that, Susan Murphy was taken out of my life. The government made some pretty heavy suggestions that I not bug them about her. They said she'd be taken care of. Well, I was worried, of course. Who wouldn't be? But I soon realised there was literally nothing I could do. I had no idea where she was, nobody I spoke to could help me, and eventually I had to give up looking. Especially when this general phoned me and made some nasty threats about prison. I threw myself into my work, and tried to avoid thinking about her.

Then a couple of weeks after she was gone, I got a call from this general. She was going to be allowed to contact her parents. Great that she was alive and all, but come on! Right at the evening news hour? People depend on me to do my job well, and being a professional means that your responsibilities need to come first. I did managed to grab five minutes with her a few days later, and told her all about my new job in Fresno. She didn't seem to think she'd be out any time soon, though.

But she was. Less than a week later, the San Francisco Attack happened. I first heard about it when my news editor suddenly switched every TV set in the station to CNN. I couldn't believe my eyes. That was definitely Susan. I'd have recognised her in an instant, even with that weird white hair. And she was battling some kind of giant robot. It was hard to tell just how big it was, though all the pundits were debating its size, strength, where it came from, what it wanted, all that crap. To say nothing of Susan. The networks couldn't get enough of her.

I kept my cakehole shut, of course. The minute anyone found out that this was my ex-fiancée, they'd be all over me for interviews. When it was me who should be doing the interviewing. I admit, I was little miffed she hadn't even called to tell me what she was going to be doing, though in hindsight I guess she probably didn't have a chance to get to a phone.

Then just as I was wrapping up my last ever weather report for Modesto that evening, she turned up at the station. First thing I knew about it was when this great massive arm stretched into the studio and grabbed me. What the hell did she have to do that for? It scared the living daylights out of me. Then she spun me around in the air fifty feet above the ground, and I suffered two cracked ribs from her grip. No kidding. I had to go to the hospital later. So all in all it wasn't the most romantic reunion ever.

And yeah, I totally spoiled it. I couldn't handle the new Susan. I mean, I literally couldn't handle her. All my life, I'd been told a man's gotta be a success, so women will look up to him. My career was all I had. And she was asking me to give it all up. Give up everything that defined me. Devote myself to her new life. Live in her shadow. I couldn't. I just couldn't change everything I'd been raised to believe in that fast. So I acted like a jerk. A real butthead jerk. Damn, the look on her sweet face when I told her still haunts me. It haunted me a _lot_ over the next twenty-four hours. A lot, I'll tell you.

Then I heard she'd been taken hostage by the giant alien UFO that was hovering over Modesto. Okay, that one our station was first on the scene for. I was out there, giving live update through the night. Not that there was much to update. All information was coming from the army, and they were as tight-lipped as ever. But you know, seeing the great alien thing up there, hearing the threat against the entire world, knowing that my ex-fiancée had been captured by it…. It makes a man think, you know. Re-evaluate his life. His priorities. I kept thinking how much I had hurt her.

I don't know if you can know just what I felt seeing her and those other monster pals of hers fly back down once that ship blew up. I don't even know what I felt, I was so confused. I just knew I had to talk to her. I pushed my way to the front of the throng, and stood there, looking up at her.

"Derek?" she called, her face registering.., what? Surprise? Yeah, but mainly disgust. This wasn't going to be easy. The whole world was going to be in love with her now. And after what I did, what right did I have to be back in her life? Still, I had to try.

"Shut the camera off," I told Bill, the cameraman. Surprised, he did so. I stepped up to her, my heart pounding.

"Susan, I thought long and hard about what happened between us. And I want you to know... I'm really sorry I hurt you."

"You… you're sorry?" Susan asked sceptically. She wasn't sure she had heard me right, I guess. My fault really—I was never that big on apologies, especially to women. Dad told me they'd always come round eventually anyway. Guess he was wrong about that as well.

"Of course. It wasn't your fault you got hit by a meteor. I was wrong to push you away," I explained. "I was scared."

"You were scared?" Susan asked. "What do you think I was?"

This wasn't going well. She was definitely really mad at me.

"I know. I was really nasty to you, Susan. I'm so sorry. I treated you like—like your feelings didn't really matter."

"Will you butt out?" growled this huge scaly ape thing. The Missing Link, of course—everyone knows him now. Seven and a half feet tall, with rippling muscles and very sharp teeth. I think I started to sweat a _lot_ right about then. But I tried to ignore him, and focus on Susan's baby blues.

"Please, Susan, I'm asking you—begging you—to listen. Please."

"This better not be another of your phony-baloney non-apologies," she said, sitting down. She held out her hand. "Get on."

Nervously, acutely aware that if I pissed her off she could just drop me, I did so. She stood up to her full height, and I—yeah, okay, I shrieked like a little girl. And so would you. But we were face to face, and more or less alone. She held me at eye level, and I clumsily dropped to my knees.

"Susan, I've been—I've had a lot of time to think about the other night. I was way off base. You scared me. I couldn't handle the idea of dropping everything I've been taught to value. Ever since I was a kid, people have always been expecting things from me, you know. I've always had this pressure on me. That's why I was so obsessed with my career. I'd sort of got the idea that if I had a great career, I could protect you and make you happy.

"I am happy, without your protection," Susan told me. "I don't need your protection now."

"You don't need anyone's," I agreed. "I was blind to think you ever did. I just felt so hopeless thinking of you in that UFO. Then I realised then that you had never needed me—you took down that robot, you took down that alien ship, all on your own. What could I ever mean to you?"

I saw the start of a tear at the corner of one of those huge blue eyes.

"I thought about you so much when I was in prison," she said. "You were the only thing that gave me hope. And then you… you rejected me. Do you know what that was like?"

I bowed my head, trying to hide my own tears. "I… I'm sorry. I was an ass. A total self-centred jerk. You came to me, and I kicked you in the teeth. I couldn't cope," I confessed. "It was too much of a shock. I'd defined myself by my career—it was all I had to offer you. It was all I had to make me feel like I hadn't failed myself, my father, all those that pushed me."

"And you never wanted a wife who would be bigger, right?" Susan asked. "And it never occurred to you that I might want a career of my own? That I might be a hero one day?"

"Well, not as such," I admitted. "And it had never, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever occurred to me you would, you know, save the earth from an alien invasion."

Susan actually smiled at that.

"Look, I know I haven't been the most caring fiancé you could have had. But I'm not just a shallow jock, either," I entreated. "You would never have stuck with me as long as you did if I had been. I can change. I have changed. Susan, I still love you—no matter how tall you are, no matter how big your shadow. The other night I was a stupid jerk. I admit it. I panicked. I am so, so, sorry. I really, really hurt you."

"You did," Susan agreed, her eyes brimming with tears. "You hurt me more than anyone ever has. But you know what? You also helped me. You made me realise that I would never let anyone ever treat me like that again."

"I guess not," I said, slumping. It was no good. "If you put me down, I'll leave you, and go off to Fresno. You don't need me any more."

"No, I don't need you," Susan said, lifting me higher. "But… I want you."

She kissed me, one of her patented full-faced kisses. I did my best to respond, though it was hard to breathe.

"And I... need you…" I gasped.

* * *

It wasn't immediate. We still needed a bit of time to reconnect, to adjust to our new relationship. Dad was really pleased, oddly enough. Said if you're going to walk in someone's shadow, at least make sure they're worthy of it. And she so is.

We got married the next month, in a beautiful outdoor wedding. She had a train a hundred feet long, and I was wearing Monger's jetpack. Don't even ask how much the ring cost. And don't even think about asking about our wedding night. And yes, we had that European honeymoon Susan always dreamed of-well, with a few changes, like personal audiences with national leaders and our every move reported by the press. Now we live in a big house—and I mean a really BIG house—on the outskirts of Las Vegas, where she commutes to the Monster Force base by aircraft, and I got a job as an anchor here. Yes, it was thanks to her. I'm cool with that though. Oh, and the Linkster and I hit the casinos at least once a week—he's a great guy.

So yeah, I'm the Shadowman. The man in her giant shadow. But you know, I wouldn't have it any other way.

* * *

**NOTES:** The "canon" of this story is based on my own fic, "God Help the Outcasts." In most cases it's not an issue, but in my story I eventually allow Susan to contact her parents from the base. Which I have located in Nevada, where the real Area 52 is. So that is why Derek is contacted by Susan, and why they eventually end up living in Vegas. (Besides, I can totally see the Link loving Vegas...)

Anyway, this came about from the last line, and sort of evolved backwards from there. While Canon!Derek is a jerk, and my own "canon" Derek is even worse, I wanted to see if he could be rehabilitated. I'd be interested to see if people think I've succeeded in doing so...


End file.
